


Robotech

by sweetbabyraes



Category: RWBY
Genre: Character Study, Monty Oum Project, Other, first fic lets go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6721468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbabyraes/pseuds/sweetbabyraes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is a little character study of yang after she loses her arm. got a prompt for the monty oum project fic exchange and i ended up combining my prompt with the one i submitted. </p><p>basically here's yang contemplating getting a robo arm</p>
            </blockquote>





	Robotech

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea what im doing im new to this. enjoy this little character study.

You sit in your bed, staring out the window all day. The radio prattles on in the background, telling the same story again and again and again. The CCT had been fixed some days ago, but any joy brought by the repairs was cut short by the information spewing from the tiny speaker. You’re kinda tired of it by now, but you don’t want to try and reach over to turn the device off. It’s on your right hand side, and you don’t want to deal with the odd disjunction that occurs when you try to use your right arm. You feel like it’s still there, like you can make a fist and throw punches at everyone in the world because you’re that pissed off. 

You lost half of your soul on the battlefield. You can’t even muster the anger at your aura, at the asshole that did this to you, at the damn radio that won’t shut up about that stupid experiment. 

You’ve heard about it seventy-two times now, not like you’re counting or anything. Not like you have anything better to do. Everyone’s gone. 

“I just can’t believe those…. those CREATURES want the same rights as us! They’re no better than the Grimm that caused the mess in Vale!” 

“This finding is turning the history of the world upside down. Who knew faunus and Grimm were so alike?”

You want to shake your head, and you do. You feel your hair tickle the stub of your right arm and wince. There’s no pain, hasn’t been since you awoke, but that doesn’t mean it’s not jarring. You almost want to cut your hair off, start anew. Something memorable, something with hidden significance. You sigh, and a face pops into your mind, sending a slice of pain through your chest. 

Black hair, matching bow, the most beautiful guarded eyes you’ve ever seen. 

It hurts to think about her, but with the constant background noise it’s nigh impossible not to. 

“A failed experiment eons ago has left a significant impact on the world as we know it. The advent of Grimm was man-made, but as it turns out, the Grimm have a not-so-distant relative. A second outcome of this experiment…”

“There are riots in the street, fights breaking out between faunus and human. All kingdoms are facing these threats, and the tension is only causing more Grimm to creep closer to cities.”

A flash of white hair and a scar passes through your mind, and you almost want to laugh. Her dad had taken her away for her safety, but even Atlas isn’t immune to the riots and hatred that have been spawned. You ball your fists - fist. Your eyes flash red for the first time in a long time, but quickly return back to their tranquil violet. You flop down on your bed, rolling away from the radio and window to stare at the gauntlet on your desk. 

The vibrant colors of Ember seem faded, like even it has lost its will to fight. Blake wasn’t able to find your right arm or right weapon, so you suppose the object you slaved over has lost half of its soul too. The thought warms the cold edges of your heart and mind. At least you’re not alone. 

“The numbers of the White Fang have been growing at a fantastic rate since the attack on Vale, and honestly I’m worried about what this could mean for us in the long run.”

“As far as I’m concerned? The faunus are no better than their cousins the Grimm. I say we lock ‘em up and test ‘em. Maybe they know how to stop the Grimm and they just ain’t tellin’ us.”

That comment makes you stop moping and bolt up. Your eyes flash red and you slam your hand down on the radio, anger easily dispersed at the sight of the broken pieces lodged in your hand and scattered all over the floor. You’re tired of hearing this nonsense day in and day out. 

Another image of Blake pops into your mind, followed by another sting in your chest. She’s not evil, and just because they happened to be born from the same experiment as the Grimm, that doesn’t mean she’s automatically bad. You don’t want to imagine her beaten and in chains, hurt just because she was born with damn cat ears. You sigh and stand, thinking it’s time you took a walk around the house to cool down. 

You walk a little off-kilter now, but you’re sure you’ll get used to it soon. The idea that your aura failed you… maybe a little longer on that one. The funny thing is - you don’t remember fighting. You remember waking up, and you remember seeing Blake. You walk past the left half of Ember Celica, and stop for a minute. You may not remember losing your right arm, but you do remember making your weapon. 

You’ve always been more hands-on in things, exceeding in subjects like science while falling behind in simpler classes like math. So when it came time to craft your own weapon, you were scared. You were worried you wouldn’t be able to make it right, or make it work. You barely knew how to weld, let alone shape pieces and make a functional object. You made it simple, some sliding bits, a shotgun mechanism, a gauntlet. Easy, nothing compared to the mechanical genius of Crescent Rose or Qrow’s weapon. Yet, it still gave you troubles. Scars littered your fingertips from messing up a weld, one big explosion left you with a giant burn across your whole left foot, and countless nights were lost to tears at the prospect of failing. 

You snap out of your memory, picking up the remaining half of your gauntlet gun, and slip it on. You feel a little better with its familiar weight on your wrist. An idea pops into your mind. You nearly giggle, but a smile does cross your face. A start. 

You think of how lonely Ember must be without Celica and start thinking of ways to replace Celica as you trod through the quiet abode. You would need a new arm first; Atlas has some great advancements in the field of robotic limbs. No, you want to make it. It needs to be something distinctly you. Just like Ember Celica. 

Maybe a new Celica to your Ember. One that replaces the whole lower half of your arm. And is a weapon. Yeah, that sounds cool. That sounds perfect. Your heart warms up quite a bit at having a goal, and you start to imagine going into fights with your bright yellow and red arm. Maybe you’ll get the whole team to help design it - and another pain rips through your heart. The team isn’t going to get back together, not for something as trivial as this. Plus, who even knows where Blake is? Your mind flashes back to your image of Blake in chains and you shiver. Hopefully not there. 

You pass through the kitchen, making a loop of the house, and think about your cool new arm. You should tell Ruby about it, she’ll love – yet another cut across your heart, this time deeper and longer than the others. Your sister left not a week ago to do something with the remains of team JNPR. You miss your little sis and send up a small prayer for her safety. You try not to cry at the idea of all your family leaving you behind. Your mom, Qrow, Ruby, Summer, Blake, Weiss…. 

Dad’s still here, though. You blink away the tears that you hadn’t realized were gathering in your eyes, and set off to find Taiyang. 

He’ll help you build your cool new arm for sure.


End file.
